“This is about you. This is about you and the man you were involved with, cher. The agent, Bauer? You loved him?”
Sabrina, her eyes fluttering closed, could only nod her head.
“Look at me, cher,” Celeste commanded. She waited until Sabrina complied before she spoke again. “And you still do, no?”
“Yes.”
“Then the answer is simple, don’t you see, cher?” Celeste beamed. “Go and be with him, cher! Go to him.”
Of all the moments from her impromptu visit to her mother Sabrina entertained on the flight back to Port Charles, and there were many, it was that lone decree by her mother she found the most difficult to accept. And ignore.
Go and be with him…
Sabrina did not have to wonder if it truly was that simple; merely showing up on Jack’s doorstep and making her intentions known. The truth of the matter was it was as easy as that. No, what gave her pause and could still make her insides clench and leave her palms damp was what was required of her—submission. The only other prospect as terrifying was an experience that was equally foreign to the beautiful surgeon. Rejection. While it was not a possibility she enjoyed entertaining, the pragmatist in Sabrina knew she had to evaluate all sides of the equation and then, as her beloved brother Stefan had taught her, consider several additional outcomes.
Of the two prospects—submission or rejection—Sabrina was at a loss to determine which was the greater cause for hesitancy in heeding her mother’s advice.
Her mind screamed it was the former; it had to be, she reasoned. After all, save what was required of her as a Cassadine, she had lived the better part of her adult life deferring to no one and had neither the desire nor could she conceive of a reason to change that now. And for of all things…love?! ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ was Sabrina’s position on the subject. Past experiences of letting her guard down and extending her trust and her heart only to have the act result in betrayal or, even worse, abandonment —Sabrina’s greatest fear—had left her jaded; the pain although buried deep within the recesses of her mind and locked away still had the ability to stir to life with crippling intensity. Like now.
Her heart, however, was coldly almost cruelly echoing it was the latter, rejection, which had proved to be the victor in this uncomfortable confrontation of truths. Yet it wasn’t so much the prospect of being rebuffed by Jack that frightened Sabrina. Again, as a Cassadine she was a pragmatist. She had entertained that outcome. Rejection. Make no mistake, she wouldn’t like it, but she would live.
As she settled back within the plush confines of the Gulfstream’s leather seat Sabrina found her mind drifting to thoughts of Jack; she had many to choose from but inevitably her thoughts fell upon memories of the early stages of their union as she delighted in them most. Reminiscing was far more pleasant than addressing the lone unsettling thought that had been her constant companion since she’d learned of Jack and Audrey’s upcoming wedding: She was facing the very real possibility of a life without Jack.
And just as it was all her doing, so it was that only she could rectify the situation.
Flashes of memory invaded her thoughts…
Night time. New York’s skyline serving as a backdrop. Dinner and drinks at the ultra-exclusive New York steakhouse, chosen by Sabrina when Jack informed her he’d built up quite an appetite as the day had progressed.
She could not prevent the smile curving the corner of her mouth as she recalled his reaction upon her arrival…
“Sorry...,” he began as he rose from the table, “my mind was somewhere else for a moment.”
“On my legs, I do believe,” Sabrina laughed as she slid into the booth. She chose the coal black one-shoulder Donna Karan cocktail dress for that very reason; that it served to highlight her curves was an added bonus. “Perhaps you're imagining what they would feel like...wrapped around your waist?”
“Are you always this direct?” Jack coughed in between sips of his scotch.
Her laughter rang out as she watched him smoothly recover. “Only with those whom I know will appreciate it. May I?” She reached for his drink. With the ease of a person who had a proclivity for the finer things in life she savored the amber liquid upon her tongue, giving an appreciative nod at his choice. “You do not strike me as a man who has time for games, Agent Bauer. I can assure you, I am no such woman.” She smiled. “What I am, however, is astute enough to realize that you are as attracted to me as I am to you. Why should we stand on ceremony when it comes to such a truth?” She gave a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Would you not much rather...enjoy that truth?”
A smile still adorning her lovely features as she gazed out the jet’s window, Sabrina basked in the memory of that evening, their dinner; how for nearly four hours they engaged in conversation that was at times frank, occasionally hilarious, quite often overtly sexual, but always intriguing. One thing was abundantly clear to both parties—things were going to be very promising.
Just not on that night.
New York. A luxury Penthouse suite in a posh hotel in the City. Three weeks after a very sexually charged conversation over an unexpectedly derailed dinner, two would-be lovers went about the task of “negotiating” the terms of their unique arrangement…
“Condom?" he repeated. His molten cerulean gaze locked with soft brown pools glittering with defiance.
“It’s nothing personal, Jack. It’s more of a…symbolic thing for me.”
“Did something change…did I miss something since the last time we saw each other? You’re acting like this is going to be a one-shot deal…”
“Oh, no, no! On the contrary,” Sabrina insisted. “I do believe you and I can have an…arrangement than can prove to be mutually satisfying to us both for as long as either of us so desires.”
“Well, if it’s all about ‘satisfaction,’ then a condom…” He shrugged, letting his words taper off. “Let’s just say, that might prove to…I don’t know…dull the full effect?”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, it is,” he nodded. “Tell you what. Let’s not insult each other’s intelligence, Sabrina. Given the resources we both have at our disposal, we each know all we need to about the other’s medical history. There’s no need for rubbers. And you’re far too smart – and sophisticated – to not have your shit together when it comes to birth control.” A faint smile turned up the corner of Jack’s mouth. “Speaking of which, ‘control’ is what this is all about.”
“Is that what you think, Agent Bauer?”
“It’s Jack, remember? Call me Jack,” he murmured. “And, yeah, I do.” He smiled in an effort to clamp down on the surprisingly rising irritation he was feeling in response to her smoothly but nonetheless deliberately evading addressing the issue. She was shifting into that cool, aloof mode like she’d done back at CTU the night they met. It bothered him then; it was driving him crazy now. “But I’m fine with that,” he bluffed. “Completely. If that’s how you want it…,” he shrugged. “If you insist."
“It is. I do.”
Jack watched the last glimmer of satisfaction register in the defiant surgeon's eyes and for a fleeting moment he swore he witnessed the briefest flash of something resembling surprise, as if she had been expecting to encounter more resistance if not an outright fight from him. As she turned to walk away, a knowing, almost arrogant smile tickling the corner of her mouth, Sabrina’s last coherent act was to gasp the handsome Federal agent's name once more in response to him taking her by the waist with lightning-like speed and crushing her body to his.
His mouth descending upon hers for a ravenous kiss, what scant remainder of protest or even defenses she possessed were lost as she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal press against her.
If she harbored any questions as to if the enflamed government sentry's desire for her was real, they were soon answered as Jack stealthily took Sabrina's hand and slid it between their bodies, bringing it to rest between his thighs.
Against the irrefutable proof of his intent.
As the kiss ended, unflinchingly, Sabrina returned Jack’s stare. “So, what are you waiting for?” It took every ounce of her resolve to keep her voice and hands steady. “Are we gonna do this or what?”
With a determined, deliberate thrust into her skilled hand Jack's message was loud and clear.
“What do you think?”
“Fine,” she said slowly. Her power of speech was still a bit unsteady. “Bedroom’s this way.” With a nod of her head she indicated the direction he should follow her as she turned away.
As he replayed her earlier queries over in his mind Jack realized he had found the answer to the question that had haunted him since the evening of their dinner date. Correction, he reminded himself, chuckling softly, their dinner. The fiery surgeon had not taken the time to regroup; to try and regain control of the reins when it came to their encounter, so to speak. As far as she was concerned, nothing had changed. But as he appreciatively watched her saunter away, Jack noted to himself that nothing could be farther from the truth.
This was happening.
They were happening…
“Miss Sabrina?”
“I am sorry, Anton,” Sabrina replied. “Did you say something?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I was informing you we have landed and we must disembark. It is time.”
For several moments Sabrina sat motionless, both the power and truth of the sentry’s innocently uttered statement seemingly have struck her with the force of fist to the chest. She swallowed to remove the lump in her throat. If ever there was a sign or portent, that had to be it, she reasoned ruefully.
“Yes,” she finally managed. Nodding resolutely, she rose to her feet. Her decision had been made. “It is time.”